


What a Woman

by MakaylaJade



Series: For The Gods: The Bria Monique Series [8]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Autistic Spencer Reid, Bisexual Derek Morgan, Case Fic, Developing Relationship, Drag Queen Spencer Reid, Drag Queens, Gay Bar, Gay Spencer Reid, Gender Identity, Hand Jobs, Hate Crimes, Hate Speech, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Murder, Slurs, Smut, Transphobia, Undercover, a disaster fic if I ever wrote one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakaylaJade/pseuds/MakaylaJade
Summary: JJ and Emily seemed to be paying extra special attention to Spencer, and it was hard to hide his discomfort and obvious surprise when they dragged him out of the conference room to have a “talk” as they both put it. But the idea they had in mind was something he would never consider, not even for a millisecond, and to even think of such a situation made his skin crawl.“Will you at least consider it?” Emily asked desperately, both girls following after him as he searched for an escape in the precinct break room, gravitating towards the coffee maker instantly to pour himself a cup of the black sludge they called coffee in Philadelphia.“Not even for a second."
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Series: For The Gods: The Bria Monique Series [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969837
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87





	What a Woman

**Author's Note:**

> So this work is pretty much glorified trash, but I hope it's at least entertaining.

Traipsing through his routine in the morning was simultaneously painful and difficult. Every morning was the same; he would wake up at five thirty on the dot and complain and curse for ten minutes about getting up early, then he would drag his willowy frame through his apartment like a wandering specter. Once his Keurig was on, he would vanish into the bathroom where he spent nearly fifteen minutes showering, attempting to tame his wild hair, brushing his teeth, and, much to Derek’s admitted surprise, applying makeup.

Spencer didn’t wear _a lot_ of makeup to work, and in fact it was hardly even noticeable. His under eye bags were dark, almost purple, and it seemed that his perpetual lack of sleep and constant stress from the job was what kept them permanent. But with the concealer and powder he liked to use, it diminished them somewhat, and at least made him feel a bit better about his appearance. It wasn’t socially acceptable for men to wear full faces of makeup just yet, and with Reid’s subtle nature, he would have to deal with it as quietly as he could.

But today, something was different

Derek looked up and greeted him with a fond, “Good morning, baby,” but his eyes quickly flicked downwards to take in the pink sheen over his diamond-shaped lips. Reid smiled shyly, leaning in to kiss him and when he pulled back, Derek looked somewhat dazed and surprised. But he said nothing, and Spencer was grateful for that. He turned away and proceeded to collect the coffee mug that Morgan had prepared for him while he was in the bathroom. Once Derek took his own shower and readied himself for the day, they set off to work

Now that they were a couple, Derek seemed to be having a difficult time in keeping his eyes off of Spencer, at home, at work, on dates… All the time, really. Spencer had questioned him about this with a bit of humor in tone, and Morgan explained that it was because he realized just how _pretty_ Spencer was, from his fluid movements to his somehow graceful composure. But Reid was quick to shut that down, since he found it difficult to accept compliments regarding his physical appearance - especially his normal, every day appearance. He was too awkward, too stiff. He didn’t know what to do with his hands sometimes and his autistic tendencies would often appear in the expression of silent stimming, rather it be in the form of flapping hands or wiggling fingers. He was a freak, but Derek was appalled by that word and assured him that he was, honestly, quite precious. Derek always had an incredible protective streak, but Spencer never expected to be on the receiving end of that, especially not in such an intimate way.

It must have been his lipgloss today, because Derek was practically undressing with his clothes the second they stepped into the bullpen. Reid had a habit of wrapping his lips around almost anything he got his hands on, but even as frequently as he mentioned how unhygienic as it was, he still had a tendency of biting on a pen cap or keeping one of the little black coffee straws in his mouth - That probably wasn’t helping Morgan’s vivid imagination.

Prentiss had taken a keen interest in the couple, commenting briefly on the shared glances between them over the past month or so and often encouraging them to ‘get a room’ without actually understanding that they were in fact involved with one another. Spencer knew that they needed to be careful, hence his disparity towards PDA and any form of more-than-friendly interactions. They couldn’t afford to be figured out, not unless they both wanted to lose their jobs or be reassigned within the Bureau. But today, she just seemed desperate to point out the obvious change in Reid’s appearance, particularly his new addition to his usually bare face.

“Lipgloss today, Reid?” Prentiss asked, not unkindly and mainly more curious than anything.Reid’s head popped up from where it was bowed down over his desk, a pen fitting between his parted, shimmering lips. He smiled around the cap, nodding his head shyly.

“O-Oh, yeah… I was feeling a little bold, today, I guess,” he said in a bashful murmur, his chestnut curls falling around his pretty face. He looked over towards Morgan, thick lashes batting innocently against his high cheekbones while he offered him a hesitant smile.

“I like it! It’s pretty. Brings out the color in your cheeks,” Emily observed fondly, and Spencer seemed to brighten up considerably. That was a considerable compliment, especially since he had the complexion of a zombie on his good days. He popped the pen out from between his lips, sitting up a bit straighter and crossing his slim legs effortlessly under his desk.

“You think so? I still think I look a bit washed out on normal days,” Reid said. Morgan looked a bit incredulous, but JJ happened to be walking by in that very moment with case files in hand.

“Reid, you know much I like to prove you wrong, but today we don’t have time. We have a case,” she said, patting the stack of files in her arm with one hand and clicking off up the stairs and towards Hotch’s office. The trio shared a look before getting up and heading towards the roundtable room in a group. They took their seats, side by side, but Reid wandered off towards the break room to fix himself another coffee before they had to get into the nitty gritty and bloody details. Because who could stand looking at mutilated bodies without overly sweet coffee? Certainly not Reid.

When he returned, everyone was inside and waiting for him, and he muttered a sheepish apologize while scurrying to his seat beside Derek who just acknowledged him with a fond smile. Rossi looked at him a bit strangely but said nothing, most likely noticing the lipgloss on his lips but ultimately diverting his attention to the case instead.

“Alright everyone, we have a case involving three murdered individuals in Philadelphia. They were all found in alleys with their clothing removed,” Garcia said, her full lips pursed. Some pictures showed up on the screen, revealing their nude and beaten bodies, with several stab wounds littering two out of the three. She left out a rather important detail though in her introduction, and almost immediately, Rossi seemed to catch on.

“Whoa,” Emily offered quite lamely, her brows furrowing together.

“They were completely castrated…” JJ muttered, feeling uncomfortable and knowing her male colleagues had to feel worse.

“Is that…” he started, only for Morgan to intervene before he said something potentially insulting.

“Are they transgender?” Morgan asked instead, and Garcia tilted her head slightly, indication of a mixed answer.

“Local law enforcement is saying yes,” Hotch responded with a firm nod.

“Maybe even drag queens,” Reid spoke up, his chin perched in his hand as he overlooked the file with a clinical expression on his face. “Do we know for certain if they were transgender or is local police just assuming they are? Because that makeup is… quite adventurous,” he said honestly,

“At this point, I believe it is just speculation. We’ll find out for sure when we arrive. Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch concluded, standing up with file in hand and leaving the conference room to organize their flight. Everyone else lingered, and Rossi just had to ask the question that everyone seemed to be dreading.

“You know a lot about makeup, Reid?” He asked a bit standoffishly, looking up and down Reid as if sizing him up. Spencer blinked, suddenly growing incredibly aware of the light makeup on his own face. God, this was uncomfortable, and even though he was a grown man, he felt like he had just been caught by his father, digging into his mother’s makeup bag. Subconsciously, he licked his lips in an attempt to destroy the evidence of gloss.

“Um… Just basic stuff, I guess.” Christ, it was like coming out as gay all over again. _I sort of like guys… Maybe just a little._ He swallowed and looked towards Morgan who was glaring holes into an unassuming Rossi. But Dave just frowned and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Uh huh,” He hummed, looking over Reid once more before leaving the room after Hotch. The girls looked after him incredulously and Spencer felt exposed, certainly uncomfortable, and definitely awkward.

“If he says another word to you, just let me know,” Morgan said, squeezing his shoulder in a way that didn’t suggest anything more than a protective, brotherly relationship. Spencer smiled slightly at him, and the girls agreed with similar statements. But he couldn’t get too caught up in his own feelings. They had a killer to catch, and if getting his feelings hurt along the way meant putting him away, it was a worthy sacrifice.

Right?

* * *

“I’m SSA Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with agents Hotchner and Jareau.”

Even though Philadelphia was only three hours, they couldn’t afford to waste time. They had landed in Philadelphia after an hour jet ride and almost immediately split up, Rossi and Emily visiting the most recent crime scene while Morgan and Reid tackled the M.E. Hotch and JJ had already set up at the precinct and were busy in the conference room, but as Morgan and Reid arrived, they were instantly approached by a deputy who questioned them, and he looked over Reid incredulously, and it was enough to make the young doctor uncomfortable. He probably had trouble believing that scrawny Reid was actually an FBI agent. But the deputy just hummed and directed them towards the conference room where they could see their colleagues at work. It seemed that Rossi and Emily had beaten them back to the precinct.

“M.E. was able to tell us that all of our victims were biologically male, which we already knew,” Morgan informed the other four agents, and Reid was quick to jump in.

“All of the victims were wearing makeup, as was stated, as well as colored wigs. Now, what’s interesting about that is that they were all wearing wig caps with glue or tape applied as well, which is a common trick that drag queens use to keep their wigs on while performing,” he supplied knowingly, his hands locking together in front of his chest. He knew that feeling this nervous was probably a bit dramatic, but it was almost like a personal attack on him - especially since he was beginning to believe that these victims were in fact drag queens, and not transgender or crossdressing individuals. The universe sure had a sick mind, and Rossi’s constant staring wasn’t helping.

“We can confirm this with Garcia,” Hotch said, and quickly took out his phone to dial their beloved technical analyst.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Garcia’s bubbly voice sounded from the phone, but the mood was far too somber for any of them to even think of responding to her quirkiness.

“Garcia, can you look into our victims and see if they were involved in the gay community, specifically as drag queens? Look into local gay bars as well as any other significant venues.”

“Ah, drag queens and gay bars, two of my favorite things in one sentence,” she cooed while her fingers flew across the keys.

“You know, it’s also possible some of them were involved in non-profits geared towards LGBTQ people. We—I mean, sometimes drag queens will get involved as role models for the kids who get rejected by their friends and families,” Reid said, cursing himself for his little stumble. Again, Rossi looked at him hard, but Garcia was quick to respond.

“Alright, my queens, all three victims were regular performers at a local gay bar known as Syndicate. And our second victim, Collin Knicks, took several trips a month to volunteer at a nonprofit in the Big Apple focused on preventing LGBTQ suicides and helping at-risk individuals.”

“There’s our connection,” Emily said with a nod of her head. “So it’s a hate crime.”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the local detective, Jim Stewart, said, his arms crossed over his chest. He frowned, looking over one of the crime scene pictures. “It’s possible he was interested in them sexually and when he discovered they were actually men, he became enraged.”

“I’m willing to bet that it’s a hate crime,” Morgan said confidently, and Reid instantly nodded in agreement, standing up a bit straighter in front of the map he had been glancing over.

“As am I. Twenty point four percent of all hate crimes are focused on an individual’s sexual orientation, and out of those 20.4, 56.7% were homosexual males. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all of these men were drag queens, and besides, not all of them were the overly feminine drag queens that can be mistaken for biological females. For example, our first victim was in a style commonly called camp, and in the drag community, that means overdramatizing feminine aspects of beauty. A lot of camp drag queens draw their inspiration from typical clown getups, especially in their makeup, but they also perform with clown values like comedy and satire.”

That left a few baffled individuals, in particular, Hotch, Rossi, and Stewart. Damn, he knew it was foolish to spout out information like that, especially since it implied intimate knowledge of the drag community. And again, it wasn’t a secret, but the less people who knew, the better, and the last thing he needed was his two superiors knowing of his pastime activity. He knew they most likely wouldn’t do anything about it, but he would rather Hotch and Rossi _not_ know that he flounced around in women’s clothing and makeup in his free time.

Someone cleared their throat in a hope to dispel the awkward air that took over the room, and Hotch eventually, _thankfully_ , decided to speak up.

“Alright, Reid. If this is a hate crime, how do you think the unsub targeted them? Through the clubs?” He questioned. Reid instantly nodded his head, pointing at the one bar on the map where all of the victims frequented for performances.

“Has to be. Syndicate, the bar, is at the center of all of the dump sites. They were all left in different alleys no more than two miles away from the bar, so I think it would only make sense to assume that this is where he is picking up his victims,” Reid said, his intelligence hardly surprising the rest of his team, “And since he’s been there before, I’m betting that he’s either a regular or he blends in.”

“Perfect… So how are we going to find a single fag in a bar full of ‘em?” The detective spat out, and his hate was pretty clear. If Reid wasn’t sure, he’d think that the detective could be their unsub.

“Watch your mouth,” Derek hissed dangerously, and Hotch was quick to cast him a sharp glare insinuating that he would get this under control, and if Reid knew Hotch well enough, he knew he would follow through with that.

“Do not refer to these victims as such slurs. Regardless of their sexual orientation or preferred gender identity, they were human and deserve respect,” He said both respectfully yet sternly, and the detective just shook his head with a huff.

“I just don’t understand what the world’s coming to. But fine, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. They were human.” Well, that problem was solved, for now at least. Reid feared that the detective’s clear disdain for these people - people like him - would rise to the surface again, but they would deal with that issue when it presented itself. They came to do their job, and regardless of how hateful some people could be, they couldn’t let that interfere.

Speculation wasn’t getting them anywhere, but over time, they were able to develop a profile, or at least a partial one; The unsub was a white male in his mid twenties to early thirties with homophobic ideologies that could possibly stem from religious beliefs. It was possible he was feeling homosexual tendencies and in an effort to dispel them, he killed the objects of his desire. Due to his ability to go to the same club on three different occasions without incident meant he blended into the crowd and was potentially a regular at the club. With nothing more to go off of, JJ and Emily seemed to be paying extra special attention to Spencer, and it was hard to hide his discomfort and obvious surprise when they dragged him out of the conference room to have a “talk” as they both put it. But the idea they had in mind was something he would never consider, not even for a millisecond, and to even think of such a situation made his skin crawl.

“Will you at least consider it?” Emily asked desperately, both girls following after him as he searched for an escape in the precinct break room, gravitating towards the coffee maker instantly to pour himself a cup of the black sludge they called coffee in Philadelphia.

“Not even for a second,” he dismissed easily, pouring sugar into his coffee which he was beginning to suspect was actually really mud.

“Spence, please? This could be our only chance of catching the unsub,” JJ tried, looking both exasperated and equally as desperate as Prentiss. He frowned and shook his head, reaching a hand up to brush his messy curls away from his face with fingers he now realized were shaking just slightly.

“Guys, please… I can’t. Do you realize the impact that could have on my career? My reputation,” he said, his voice raising just slightly in pitch out of frustration.

“Spence…”

“I said no,” he said more firmly with a sharp frown set on his lips. It was too much of a risk for him to take. If word got around at the Bureau that _the_ Dr. Spencer Reid was actually a drag queen, he would be devastated and ruined. He knew they couldn’t legally fire him over it, but the Bureau wasn’t the most liberal place in the world, so they would most likely search for an excuse to get rid of him. And in all honesty, every single member of his team had done something that would deem firing - and he was no exception to that.

The day continued on as was expected, and when evening came around and they had no leads, Hotch gave instructions for them to retire to the hotel. They all stopped at a local Thai restaurant for dinner though, and despite Rossi’s occasional hard glances, he was feeling a little less exposed than he had been before. When they finally made it to the hotel, it was simply common knowledge that he and Derek would be rooming together. Nobody really knew for certain that they were in a relationship, and although speculation would continue to circle the unlikely duo, they would neither confirm nor deny it. So it was simple to make the assumption that Reid and Morgan would share a room, but not as simple to assume they would be sharing the same bed.

“JJ and Emily made the suggestion that I go undercover in drag,” he said softly, wrapped in his lover’s warm embrace with nothing more than a pair of boxers on. He needed this… A sense of relaxation and a stress free environment where he could just wind down for a little, at least until the morning when he and Derek would both have to snap back into work-mode.

“Not such a bad idea, actually,” Derek said thoughtfully, and Spencer only proceeded to smack his muscular bicep. Derek only chuckled in respond, his arms squeezing slightly around his lithe lover in a form of comfort and reassurance. “But I won’t pressure you. We can catch the unsub without that, but I won’t say it wouldn’t be a helpful way to get him on our radar.”

“Derek… You know I can’t,” he murmured with a frown in place. Derek leaned in close and kissed his pouting lips, and somehow that was enough for Spencer to believe that anything was a good idea, at least until he sobered up from the sweet moment. “You know what that would do to me… I can’t.”

“And like I said, I’m not going to pressure you. But I will ask that you think about it, for the sake of our victims and their families.” Derek was obviously pressuring him, just not in a direct manner like the girls had done. At least Penelope wasn’t in on their little idea…

“Don’t try and guilt-trip me,” Spencer lectured weakly, pushing away from Derek’s embrace and rolling over, his back to the other man. He didn’t know what he was going to do. It would definitely help them, but was it worth it to put his own self at risk? It was in his job description, to put his life on the line to save others. But he was beginning to question the flexibility of those rules. Morgan followed him as he turned away, curling behind him and holding him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder.

“I’m not. I’ll respect whatever decision you make,” Morgan mumbled into his skin. Spencer sighed, hugging a spare pillow close while his lover’s hands laid over his stomach, feeling the concavity of his thin frame.

“Rossi’s been looking at me weirdly all day, and I don’t think my knowledge of makeup and drag queens and my ramblings of gay hate crimes really helped,” he admitted, and Derek just chuckled, the light stubble on his chin scruffy against his shoulder.

“Rossi is a conservative middle aged man with a Catholic-Italian upbringing. Are you surprised?” He asked and Reid just hummed a sound of amusement.

“You’re right… Doesn’t make me feel any better though. He seems both intrigued and suspicious, and almost disgusted in a way. I don’t know if he really feels that way or if he’s just surprised.”

“It’s probably a mixture of both,” Derek said honestly, his hand now moving up and down Spencer’s bare torso. “But you shouldn’t worry about it… I know you look up to him, but if he really does feel that way towards gay men, I don’t think you should torture yourself like that. It’ll only hurt in the end.”

“You’re right… Maybe I’m just overthinking it too,” he murmured, and Derek tilted his head slightly to nip at the shell of his ear, a sharp gasp responding to his ministrations.

“Want me to help you stop thinking for a bit?” Derek whispered, his breath hot against his neck. And Reid could only shiver in response, nodding his head immediately. Those hands traced along the expanse of his torso, thick fingers brushing over his sensitive nipples and over the contours of his ribcage. He could feel himself getting aroused, his boxers getting tighter around his growing erection.

“Oh, god…” Spencer breathed as Derek’s hand dipped down to squeeze the bulge through his boxers, his thighs quivering out of pure instinct. Derek always had the ability to make him shake, and even light touches could send him over the edge. But not tonight - he wanted this to drag out for as long as possible, so slow was good. His partner kissed his shoulder and neck, his tongue dragging a line from the base of his neck and up the length of his jugular to the underside of his jaw.

“You’re so pretty, Spence…” he murmured, his hand dancing across the fabric of his Dr. Who boxers, the TARDIS overlapping prints of itself in a spiral of blues. He stifled a groan as Derek’s hand finally delved beneath the waistband, grasping his cock at the base and squeezing before moving upwards. And just to be a tease, the bastard completely avoided the tip.

“Derek, please,” Reid whined, his legs kicking out childishly. Derek chuckled, kissing his jaw and on the next upward stroke, his thumb slid over his head, teasing the slit delicately before he went back to just fondling him. Spencer let his head tilt back and turn, his own lips seeking Morgan’s. Derek was quick to fulfill that wish, their lips meeting in a sloppy but still passionate kiss. Derek purposely set up a quickened pace of stroking then, and Spencer moaned into the kiss.

“Don’t make me gag you, Pretty Boy. You know how much I love those lips,” Derek chastised gently, his free hand connected to the arm underneath of Spencer slid across his chest, teasing his nipples. “By the way, I really like the lipgloss today… Couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Spencer choked on a moan, his hips jerking forward. Derek sure had a way with words.

“You don’t realize how gorgeous you are sometimes… You’re absolutely stunning, Spencer.”

“Derek,” he moaned softly, one of his hands raising to muffle the noises passing his lips. “‘M close…”

“Come for me, baby boy…” Derek encouraged, kissing up his neck and suckling on the skin near the junction of his neck and shoulder, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Spencer did just moments later, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he released in Derek’s palm, legs spasming and toes curling. He panted heavily, and in the afterglow, he hardly noticed Derek leaning away to wipe his hand on a tissue from the bedside table. He gathered Spencer in his arms and held him close, nuzzling his neck.

“You’re too good to me,” Spencer murmured softly, beginning to move to face him. “Your turn?” He asked, looking a bit confused when Derek shook his head.

“No, baby, that was all for you. Just relax, okay? We both need it,” he said, turning Spencer’s head to kiss him just one more time before they got comfortable in their spooning position. It was one of Spencer’s favorite positions to sleep in, mainly because it made him feel safe and warm. And god, was Derek good at it.

“Alright… Goodnight, Derek,” he said softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, pretty boy,” he responded, “Get some sleep.”

* * *

The next day came, and JJ and Emily were relentless, as Spencer had expected them to be. He was beginning to get a bit frustrated with them, but when another victim turned up from the past night, a confirmed drag queen still in her performance outfit, he began to feel inclined to help in any way he could. He talked to Morgan in private throughout the day, and as he had previously stated, he would support Reid no matter what he chose to do.

God, this was so difficult. The pain these victims must have felt; the fear, the horror, the fact that they were alone… He had been through experiences where such emotions presented themselves in his own life, with Hankel, the bullying he suffered throughout high school, yet none of it could even compare to having his life snuffed out simply for being himself. That was enough for him to finally cave and let them know he was willing to do it - for the victims. They deserved that, in the very least.

“Hey Hotch, we were thinking, what if we sent someone in undercover?” Prentiss started, skirting around and avoiding targeting Reid immediately. It would probably be best to mention the idea delicately, since Hotch and Rossi had no idea of his pastime activities. They were both bound to be surprised and maybe even a little offset, but Spencer was willing to suffer a bit if that meant getting justice for the victims and their families.

“Who did you have in mind? Neither you or JJ could do it, since our unsub is targeting gay men dressed as women,” he said, looking a bit confused and glancing back and forth between the two women before his eyes fell on the lithe man partially behind him who raised his hand like he were swearing his oath in court.

“M-Me, sir, I’m offering,” Reid said, and oh, how comical Hotch’s face would have been in any other situation. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, his lips parting just slightly in shock and his overall demeanor simply befalling his previous state of serious to shock. Rossi looked on with a mirrored expression, but his was less drastic, most likely because, and Reid assumed, that he had his suspicions already. “It’s… something I do in my free time anyway. Drag, I mean.”

Hotch cleared his throat quite awkwardly, proving to be even more awkward than Dr. Spencer Reid himself, and Rossi simply nodded mutely. Stewart looked shocked, and the deputy who had regarded Reid oddly before glanced back and forth between the doctor and the detective. “W-Well… I’m certainly shocked,” he admitted, shaking his head and frowning at the doctor, clearly having some suppressed judgement for the younger man.

“At this point, it wouldn’t hurt,” Morgan tried to offer, and Hotch nodded slowly as if contemplating this idea. He looked to Reid, still recovering from the shock but regarding him with a serious expression. “Could you do it tonight?”

“Absolutely,” Reid said with a firm nod, “I don’t have any of my… _equipment_ , but a quick trip to a drugstore can solve that. I can just fix my real hair, since it’s long enough,” he said.

“No, call Garcia immediately. We need this to be as smooth and genuine as possible if we want to catch the unsub,” Hotch instructed. He supposed it would be easier with his own supplies, and definitely more convincing since drugstore makeup didn’t always cut it in drag. He stepped out of the conference to let his revelation settle with his two unknowing team members and the local detective and deputy. He dialed Garcia.

“Hi, baby boy, what do you need?” Garcia asked, her bubbly voice as happy and unassuming as usual. He sighed and felt his cheeks flushing pink already.

“H-Hi, Garcia. Is there anyway you can go to my apartment and, um, pick up my… _supplies_? I need them,” he said, hoping she understood what he meant since the idea of asking for makeup in the middle of a police precinct was not at all flattering. She giggled through the speaker.

“You mean your makeup? Are they sending you under?” She asked him curiously, another giggle following.

“Um… Yeah, yeah they are. I mean, I agreed to it, but I don’t really want to. Look, I just need this to be as easy as possible. Could you bring them? Please?” He asked desperately, and she responded in the affirmative. He lowered his voice to a near whisper for his next request, looking around frantically. “Also grab my curly brown wig. A dress will probably be best and a pair of heels, but not too tall. Okay?”

“Gotcha, Bria. I’ll be there in a few hours,” she promised him before they both said their goodbyes and hung up. Reid sighed and dragged a hand down his face, feeling a rise in his stubble and knowing he would need to shave before tonight. He would get there eventually, but he had to face his team again. He entered into the conference room and instantly, he felt how thick the tension was. He shivered, knowing that he had probably caused it and frowning at the looks on Rossi’s and the detective’s faces. The deputy looked a bit conflicted, and overall, emotions were pretty ranged among the group. Hotch maintained that serious expression, but it looked somewhat angered. JJ and Emily looked angry too, but with more distress than pure rage.

But Derek Morgan? Now _that_ was rage.

He looked murderous, his hands balled into fists at his side, clenched so tightly his hands were shaking just slightly. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in a heavy frown. His dark eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, and the tension in his jaw was scary.

“What’s going on, guys?” Reid asked meekly upon his entrance, and Derek instantly looked at him with a slightly softened expression before looking back to the detective and Rossi.

“Nothing. We’re leaving, to scout the bar before we send you in tonight,” he said, and Hotch was quick to join them in their departure. Reid cast a glance back towards the conference room as they fled from the precinct, and he wondered he would have the power to fix this, particularly with Rossi, when this case was done and over with. He sure hoped so, because he didn’t think he could work with a man who acknowledged him with nothing but disgust in his eyes.

* * *

By the time they were finished with the scouting, Garcia called Morgan and let him know that she was about an hour out. Reid immediately asked to be taken to the hotel so he could get ready, and fortunately, Hotch didn’t question this request. He was actually very good at not mentioning the whole thing, most likely because Hotch didn’t do well with his team members’ personal lives, especially not with confidential information like Reid had so willingly shared with him and Rossi for the sake of the case. Reid only hoped that in the end, it would bump him up a bit on Hotch’s respect totem pole to counteract against the criticism and negativity he was sure to receive in the aftermath.

“Do you need help with anything?” Morgan asked when they were in the hotel room together, and instantly, Reid shook his head and smiled, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure that Garcia is… _discrete_ when bringing my stuff in. I’d rather the city of Philadelphia _not_ know that an FBI agent is about to go undercover as a drag queen,” he said softly, and Morgan smiled softly, approaching the slightly frazzled doctor.

“I will…” he said, raising a hand and rubbing it along Spencer’s now-bare bicep. Morgan’s touch sent electricity sparking along his skin, and he shivered slightly, a frown marring his features.

“Hey…” Derek started, choosing his words carefully to avoid upsetting Reid, who was quite sensitive when it came to the approval of others. He had been searching for it all his life, so of course he was sensitive. "Rossi and Stewart are just bigots. They’ll see, after we catch the unsub how valuable your input was. And if they threaten you in anyway, you can see to it that I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Reid dismissed as he shrugged the shirt off completely, halted in his undressing with the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, I do. Because you’re my man, and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe,” he said tenderly, and Reid just smiled and shook his head, turning away from Morgan and heading towards the bathroom. He was about to close the door only for Derek to block it with his foot, peaking in at his lover. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you,” Spencer said in response, leaning into the doorway and pressing their lips together before pulling back and meeting his eyes. “Now get out so I can get ready.”

Morgan didn’t question and immediately, Spencer set to work. He let the shower water warm up while he shaved his face, skillfully avoiding leaving any nicks or razor burn in his wake, and that was because he had done this a thousand times for this very reason. He rinsed his face off, reveling in his boyish appearance for a few seconds before undressing entirely and hopping under the steady stream of water. He washed himself up as usual but the majority of time was spent shaving his legs and underarms. It had been a couple weeks since his last performance so quite a bit had grown in that small time frame (primarily since he was a man, of course). Fortunately, he didn’t have chest hair or incredibly dark arm hair, so he never had to worry about that.

By the time he was finished, he could hear Garcia’s voice through the bathroom door. Wrapping himself in a provided bathrobe, he emerged and saw Morgan, Garcia, JJ, and Emily all sitting around the room, talking amongst themselves mainly. When Derek noticed him though, he smiled that show-stopping grin and approached the young doctor, slinging an arm around his shoulders and leaning in close, too close to be platonic, and instantly Reid tensed at the feel of his lover’s lips against his cheek. “Secret’s out, baby boy,” he hummed in his ear, and instantly his cheeks flushed and he looked down in embarrassment. The girls all squealed though, clapping their hands excitedly as if watching a rom-com.

“Congrats, guys,” Emily said happily.

“I knew it, I just _knew it_ ,” Garcia hissed at them. “You didn’t even have to tell me.”

“You guys aren’t as subtle as you think, that’s for sure,” JJ added in humorously.

“What about… Hotch and Rossi?” Reid dared to ask, and JJ immediately shook her head.

“They don’t know.”

“Figured we’d leave the hardest for last,” Derek said softly, kissing his lover’s cheek. A chorus of ‘aw’s’ met the action and Spencer playfully shoved Morgan away, his cheeks pink but a smile lingering on his lips. He tightened the robe around himself, sitting down on the bed beside Garcia. JJ and Emily took up the other bed, and Derek stood at the foot of both. He was worried about the repercussions of this little undercover mission, and as crucial as it was bound to be, he was still afraid of what could come from it. Because no matter how successful a person was, if they made one wrong move, their entire career could crumble. Reid didn’t want to fall into that category.

This wasn’t about to get any easier though. He had to do this. Spencer had work to do, and with a firm nod of his head and a newfound look of determination on his face, he began to gather his makeup.

He would become Bria soon enough, all it took was a lot of makeup and a little added confidence.

* * *

“Bria’s here, babies,” Reid’s voice sang out as he erupted from the bathroom in a flurry of long brown curls and strawberry body spray. He spun around in three inch heels, black in color with a strap around the ankle. The edges were scalloped over the closed toes and the heel of his foot. He wore a black body con dress with mesh sleeves and mesh over the chest, dipping down in between his breastbone. But since he obviously didn’t have breasts, he put his silicone breasts in place in the dress to further blur the truth of his masculinity. In truth, it wasn’t apparent that he was actually a drag queen at first, because honestly, he looked like a woman ready to hit the town. Damn, he felt like he could conquer the world like this.

“Yes, baby!” Garcia cheered, the other girls looking just as excited. Derek just looked slightly baffled yet enamored, as he always did when Spencer dressed in drag. But Reid had a job to do, and he couldn’t let anything distract him. Emily approached him and fixed a microphone to the front of his dress, the black apparatus blending in with the dress (which was partially why he asked for a black one). As well as that, he wore a little earpiece too, and fortunately his wig was able to cover that without issue. JJ and Emily were dressed up in typical club outfits too, and Morgan was dressed a bit nicer in a maroon button down and black slacks which really accentuated his muscular thighs… Reid looked away almost as soon as he noticed his eyes lingering, clearing his throat a bit.

“You guys are going in too?” He asked them, the three of them nodding simultaneously.

“Just in case anything goes wrong,” Emily said in her businesslike voice, all of them knowing that, despite the somewhat ridiculousness of the situation, this was a serious mission at hand, and lives could be at stake.

“I can’t wait to see Rossi’s face,” JJ admitted sheepishly, and Garcia giggled beside her as they all flooded out of Derek and Spencer’s hotel room to head to the bar together. But before they left the hotel, Derek pulled Spencer aside and grasped his biceps in his hands, scanning his lover’s face worriedly.

“If anything goes wrong, just say my name, pretty boy, okay?” Morgan said, and Spencer swallowed nervously before bobbing his head instantly.

“I will.”

Rossi and Hotch were already there by the time the group arrived, set up in a van outside for reconnaissance. With Garcia’s help, they had access to the cameras located in and outside of the bar, and with four of them on the inside, there would be no blindspots. When they arrived, Garcia departed from their group to slip into the van, and like she never left, the group of four sauntered into the bar in increments like they belonged.

All of their victims had been alone or had just performed at Syndicate, so they all had themselves placed strategically around the bar with all eyes on Reid as he stood alone at the bar, nursing a drink which appeared to be a daiquiri, but was in fact a virgin one. He still needed to fit in, but he couldn’t let alcohol distort his senses. He needed to be alert and focused, else they risked losing the unsub or a life - or both.

After about twenty minutes of standing alone at the bar, occasionally faking texting on his phone, a man began to approach Reid, albeit slowly, and through his earpiece, he could hear Hotch’s voice filter through to the rest of his team, “Heads up, someone’s taking an interest in Reid.”

The man in question was tall, about the same height as Spencer in heels, and he was broad shouldered. He wasn’t muscular per se, just bigger in size but not overweight by any means. He sidled up to Spencer’s side, laying his hand over top of his on the bar top and smirking at him. “Hey, baby. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all by yourself here?” He asked.

Now, in any other situation, a single Reid would have been flattered, because in truth, nothing about this man screamed unsub. He was charming, not overbearing in anyway, and frankly, his cologne smelled nice. Spencer’s lashes fluttered in mock surprise, his pretty pink lips turning up into a seductive smile. “Nothin’… Looking for a man like you to whisk me away for the night,” Bria purred in response, and he swore he heard the sound of someone choking on a drink in his ear.

“I think I might be able to help you with that. But first, what’s your name, princess?” The man asked. Bria giggled, walking her fingers up the man’s forearm and meeting his eyes.

“You can call me anything you want,” she whispered, “But Bria will do.”

“Bria… A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I’m Stephen.”

“Well, Stephen… What do you say we get out of here?” Bria asked softly, her hand now resting on the back of his neck. Internally, Spencer wanted to shiver and crawl out of his skin, but he kept telling himself he had to do this. He wasn’t entirely sure if this was the unsub just yet, but something deep in his gut was telling him to run, and Spencer trusted his fight or flight response more than anything. But keeping up the act, he sauntered away from the bar and led Stephen into the ally behind the bar.

Almost instantly, he was slammed into the brick wall, a solid _oomph_ sounding upon his impact. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, he was thrown down to the ground and kick after kick was delivered to his torso and face. He knew that his team was most likely unable to decipher what exactly was going on, so in a panic, he cried out, “ _Derek!”_

It didn’t take long for them to react to that, fortunately, because the back door of the bar swung open and his colleagues emerged from within the bar, guns drawn. At the opening of the dead end alley, Hotch and Rossi stood with their guns out as well. Reid, blood dripping from his nose, crawled away from the seething unsub and in Derek’s direction. Morgan immediately holstered his gun and approached Reid, helping him to his feet. Hotch apprehended Stephen, forcing his hands behind his back and cuffing him while reading his rights. Spencer looked to Derek with wide eyes, a smile growing on his lips as the realization caught up with him, and without him alone, they risked the lives of more people. He threw his arms around Derek’s neck and laughed his joy into his neck.

* * *

On the flight home, now dressed in his usual style, Spencer wandered down the aisle with a mug of coffee in hand and a tissue stuffed up in his bleeding nose. He hadn’t broken it, fortunately, he had just been kicked hard enough that it felt like he had. He joined the group at the table, Derek at his side and the Emily and JJ across. Hotch and Rossi were near the back of the jet, talking quietly amongst themselves while Hotch did paperwork as he usually did.

“Props to Dr. Reid for catching the unsub with some feminine mystique,” Emily said with a cute bow in Spencer’s direction. The doctor just smiled, leaning into Derek _just slightly_ and exhaling a soft sigh of contentment.

“I’m just happy I was able to help, even if it was a… _unique_ situation,” he said, happy that he had been able to catch a monster and take away his ability to hurt anybody else. Derek chuckled and held his hand under the table, squeezing slightly. He felt accomplished. After years of hiding himself and being ashamed of who he was in his professional life, he felt like he had defeated his own demons. He raised his eyes up and connected gazes with Rossi for a millisecond before the older man looked away.

It looked like he still had one demon to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also please feel free to follow me on Tumblr! - @makaylajadewrites

**Author's Note:**

> Statistics mentioned in this fic are from the FBI's UCR database


End file.
